


Fate/Zero Night

by SuneDunes



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fifth Holy Grail War, Fourth Holy Grail War, Gen, Teams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24120595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuneDunes/pseuds/SuneDunes
Summary: Called to a suspicious alternate Fuyuki, the Heroic Spirits of the Fifth Holy Grail War are shocked to learn they must now work together. They face a team of seven rival Heroic Spirits, just as mighty, in order to claim the Grail. Yet their opponents, and true reason for being summoned, remain a mystery...
Relationships: Cú Chulainn | Lancer & Heroic Spirit EMIYA | Archer, Medea | Caster & Sasaki Kojirou | Assassin, Medusa | Rider & Medea | Caster
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	Fate/Zero Night

Within the dark recesses of a distant and impossible land, two men stood overlooking the world. Within his hand, the Priest held an item coveted by hopes and dreams spanning centuries. Even the greatest of Heroic Spirits had been seduced by it's elusive charm, yet it seemed forever out-of-reach.

“It is time.”

And he turned away. Yet as he walked, he noticed the second man, the Assassin, remained, staring ahead.

“What is it that keeps you? Is it your discomfort that this time, we must work together? I must admit, I had some reservations about this arrangement at first. Even though I once thought we would understand each other.”

The Assassin remained silent, his empty gaze looking out to the world.

“We must pray that our team is victorious,” continued the Priest, approaching the second man, “And that our will triumphs over that of the young man, and the others. This may be confusing for you, given our previous history…but I am sure it will work out. Though neither you nor I know of the conclusion to that War, we at least retain that which we sought.”

He raised the Grail to his eyes as he finished speaking, inspecting it slowly as if to learn some greater truth.

“For now, this is but an empty chalice – but once our team is victorious, it shall be our salvation.”

Once again, he turned and walked away, before stopping one last time. Without facing the silent Assassin, he concluded:

“Rejoice, my friend. The opportunity to realize your dream is at hand.”

* * *

An empty world was born.

Fuyuki was quiet. The summer evening sun gave the sky a relaxing orange glow, as the waves calmly brushed the shoreline. Yet something was different about _this_ Fuyuki – for it was an artificial creation, a folly and miracle of magecraft. It was not designed for sustaining life, nor its own survival. It had been created with a direct purpose, one devious yet noble.

In this alternative reality, a fiction created by mankind, there was no risk of direct harm to the innocent. But its consequences could have far-reaching repercussions for decades to come.

Two terrifying lights appeared high above the empty city of Fuyuki, clouding the evening sky. Each resembled a tornado of magical energy, seemingly sufficient to tear this new reality apart. And them, they subsided.

* * *

“Oi, rise and shine, Archer.”

The gruff but friendly call stirred him from his slumber. Lifting his head and upper body off the ground, the nameless Archer woke to find an all-too familiar world around him.

“Fu…yuki…” he mumbled, beginning to pull himself to his feet. He was on the rooftop of Homurahara Academy, an area he remembered from his time as the servant of Rin Tohsaka.

“Rin…” he mumbled again, wondering if she was around. If he had been summoned again, then did that mean…

But before he could continue his thought process, that familiarly annoying tone buzzed in to stir him from his thoughts.

“What are you doing, Archer? ‘Ya gonna keep me waiting forever?”

Archer turned to the source of the voice, perched atop the railing that ran along the rooftop’s edge.

“Lancer…” he said quietly, sizing up his fellow Servant with suspicion.

“What, did the random summoning prevent you from talking louder than a whisper or something?” said Lancer cheekily, fidgeting with his ear. Jumping down from the railing, he noticed the wariness of his former rival.

“Easy, now. We’ve got no reason to fight. Then again, I don’t even know why we’re here at all,” said Lancer, with a hint of confusion in his voice. He looked out at the city, glowing crimson in the reflection of the setting sun. “I don’t remember this place ever looking this good during our last time here. Heh, looks like I actually got lucky this time.”

“This isn’t Fuyuki.”

Lancer turned around in surprise, one eyebrow raised.

“Huh? What do you mean this isn’t Fuyuki?” he asked.

“Watch”.

Without warning, Archer materialized a bow, and fired an arrow high beyond the mountains of Fuyuki. Lancer stood, mouth agape, his eyes widened in bewilderment.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Archer?! Has this summoning made you go insane?!”

Switching his gaze to where Archer had fired the arrow, he suddenly noticed that as it left the boundaries of Fuyuki’s observable land, the arrow, instead of continuing flight, vaporized in mid-air.

“Huh? What the hell is this? Some kind of magecraft?”

Archer briefly allowed himself a small grin at the Lancer’s confusion (much to the latter’s annoyance), before explaining.

“The magical energy here is similar, but not the same, as Fuyuki. This isn’t Fuyuki, rather some counterfeit, a copy. But the question is…why?”

“Eh, but why would someone want to do that? Unless…” Lancer trailed off.

Both stood still in the silence, quickly drawing the same conclusion.

“They plan on recreating the Holy Grail War!” they said simultaneously, both retreating to opposing ends of the rooftop. Archer manifested his bow, aimed directly at Lancer; Gae Bolg faced down at him in return.

“Let’s do this all again, Archer!” cried Lancer enthusiastically, his eyes bulging in vicious excitement.

“Bring it on, Lancer!” replied Archer confidently, unwilling to back down.

Yet as the two prepared to engage, they heard a crash coming from below. Instinctively, both lowered their weapons and quickly ran downstairs, locating the source of the noise to a third floor classroom.

Quickly whipping open the door, Lancer only narrowly dodged as a beam of energy whistled by his ear, scorching the wall behind him.

“Gah ah ah ah ow! What the hell was that?!” he screamed in frustration, taking in the occupants of the room with a frustrated glare. Archer soon followed him inside.

“Rider, Caster,” Archer began, “What…is going on in here?”

The classroom resembled a battlefield. Debris was strewn across the room, the blackboard fallen off its hinges. Desks had been destroyed and tossed aside; multiple windows had been smashed. Among the clutter on the floor was the remnants of a dark fabric, which Archer quickly deduced had been Caster’s hood. The two Heroic Spirits inside stared at each other intently, each in battle position. Rider had her weapon across her front, gripped in both hands, ready to strike; Caster, who had fired the beam almost taking Lancer’s ear off, stood on the far side of the room, opposite, palm ready.

“Leave us, Archer. Lancer.” said Rider abruptly, “I have something I must finish.”

“Yes, please be rid of yourselves,” called out Caster, “I have no time to waste.”

“Alright, that’s enough.”

Reluctantly deciding to take leadership, Archer stood between the two combatants, in the centre of the room.

“Do you want to die, Archer?” asked Rider quietly, yet with an unnerving annoyance.

“So you do, then, hm?” stated Caster, as though answering Rider’s question for him, "Then begone."

“Wait a moment."

Archer was firm with his words, despite knowing he had two Heroic Spirits from the Age of Gods primed and ready to attack him at any moment.

“We don’t know why we’ve been summoned here. For all we know, this isn’t another Holy Grail War.”

“I don’t care,” shot back Caster, without hesitation.

Her face, more beautiful than Archer remembered, was much easier to read now that he could actually see it. Nor did she hide her expressions.

“I don’t like that Rider there.”

“And I don’t like that witch over there, either,” replied Rider, clearly becoming frustrated with the situation.

But before it could escalate towards breaking point, a far more worrying sound emitted from outside.

“▂▂▃▃▅▅ーーー!”

Each of the four Servants flashed quick looks of shock, before, as a surprisingly cohesive unit, racing downstairs towards the school entrance. As they arrived, they were greeted by two sights; a rampaging Berserker ahead of them, randomly smashing the ground beneath him in anger; and a remarkably relaxed Assassin, arms folded, back leaned against the wall.

Still in shock at the sight before them, Caster turned to Assassin, her frantic expression contrasting his harmonious disposition.

“Assassin! Why did you let him rampage like this?” she said frustratedly.

“Oh?”

Assassin briefly opened one eye to observe Caster, before closing it again.

“If it isn’t my former Master, the mage witch,” he said with a sigh, continuing, “I see you haven’t become any nicer since I saw you last. You speak so haughtily; it is truly a blessing to no longer have to serve you.”

“You- hmph!”

Lancer placed a hand over Caster’s mouth, preventing her from retorting – or potentially worse.

Not that anyone could observe such a small phenomenon, but Rider briefly flashed the smallest, most delicate of smiles.

“And anyway,” continued Assassin, pleased that Caster had been restrained, “It’s not like there’s anything I could do. Berserker is a strong Heroic Spirit even I wouldn’t want to cross swords with.”

Caster finally pulled herself away from Lancer’s grip, promising to curse him under her breath. Fixing her cloak that had become slightly ruffled by Rider, and then Lancer, she turned again to Assassin, prepared to reprimand him further. But she was suddenly cut off. Far beyond Fuyuki, a voice came down from the sky. None of the Servants recognized it, but within the deep, dark tone, they all sensed malice.

“Greetings, Heroic Spirits,” the voice began. “I shall not keep you long, for there is much work to be done. In the past, all of you should recall that you engaged in a Holy Grail War in this very city of Fuyuki.”

The Heroic Spirits grasped their weapons tightly, expectantly waiting for each coming word. Only Berserker paid no attention, distracted as he was in the destruction of the landscape before the school.

“This is also such a War.”

The clanking sound of weaponry grasped somehow yet tighter.

“But not in the same way as before.”

Yet the tension remained.

“Instead, you must work together as a team to overcome another team of seven Servants. The victorious team will claim the Holy Grail, with enough sustenance to feed the wishes of all seven servants. There are no Masters in this war. All actions are left to your discretion. That is all.”

And with that, they sensed the voice’s departure. The Servants looked around each other; from Lancer to Caster; Caster to Rider; Rider to Assassin; Assassin to Archer. Each slowly, yet acceptingly, loosened their grip on their weapons. The first to speak was Lancer, Gae Bolg slung over his shoulder, seemingly the most relaxed with the voice’s statement.

“Well, there we go. Now we just have to work together. Any ideas on that, Archer?”

He said this knowingly, almost with a slight grin; there was no way these five would be able to work together. And that was not even taking into consideration the manic Berserker on a path of destruction just beyond the school gate.

“Hm. I think…this is impossible.”

“What?” replied Lancer, again open-mouthed, “That’s all you’ve got?”

“Either way,” interjected Caster, seemingly neither impressed nor interested in the idea of working together, “Just make sure none of you get in the way of my plans.”

And she departed, heading back inside of the school.

“So charming, as always, Caster,” replied Assassin, with an intentional level of snark. Caster did not stop leaving, at first. However, the temptation was just too great.

“Assassin! You-“

Now, both Lancer and Archer made sure to prevent Caster from murdering her former Servant. It took her a moment to finally get her message through.

“You’re lucky that I don’t rip your heart out of your chest once more, Assassin.”

“Oh? At this range? I have heard about your exploits in close-quarters combat,” he replied, with a slight grin. Rider was equally pleased with his statement.

After having calmed down Caster, she departed; shortly followed by Rider.

“It will be easier to work on my own,” she said, and left, before anyone else could say a word.

This left only the three men standing, confused, at the school’s front entrance; the formerly rampaging Berserker finally having simmered down into a quiet discontentment. Lancer in particular found this disturbingly uncharacteristic of him.

“M-maybe one of us should tell him what’s happening?” enquired Lancer, his question more out of a sense of duty rather than the belief Berserker may understand what he was saying.

Archer and Assassin nodded quiet assent, looking at him expectantly. Lancer sighed deeply.

“Fine.”

Cursing his luck, Lancer walked over to where Berserker was now resting, seemingly engaged in the Berserker equivalent of thought.

“Berserker?”

He felt a tinge of pain in his chest as he spoke; but it soon dissipated as the hulking figure turned towards him, acknowledging his presence. Lancer felt in luck – perhaps this was going to work. Berserker looked like he was listening to him, and he hadn’t even attacked him yet.

“This Holy Grail War is not like the last one, this time we’re all on the same tea-”

“▂▂▃▃▅▅ーーー!”

The ferocity of a hurricane blew directly at Lancer. His entire physical being slid backwards, barely retaining his posture; his long ponytail flailed mercilessly, thrashing around like a whip. Berserker took off, enraged, leaving Lancer, and the school, behind. Slowly, with his heart still racing, he turned around to face Archer and Assassin. Then, almost as rehabilitation, he walked past the two Servants, and back into the school, presumably looking to spend some time alone after this recent ordeal.

Upon seeing him go, Assassin prepared to leave as well, and explore the city.

“Finally I have the opportunity to explore this city – of course I would take the chance. Unlike the rest of you, I was bound by that witch to that temple in the last War.”

“I understand,” said Archer, with a far more pressing concern on his mind. “Assassin?”

“Yes?” replied the Assassin, who had already prepared to leave.

“You seem to have been down here from early on – did you see any other servant being summoned besides us six?”

“Hmph.” Assassin took a moment to think about Archer’s question. “I…believe so. I did see something happening at the school gates when I was summoned, but by the time I arrived, there was nothing there. Well, other than Berserker, that is.”

“I see,” replied Archer.

“What is it- ah, I see,” said Assassin, now comprehending his new teammate's question. “I too hope she is here. I should like to test the mettle of my blade against her once more, even if we are on the same side now. Maybe I’ll see her in town. I’ll tell you if I do.”

And with that, the Assassin departed, leaving Archer alone at the school entrance. The sun was now fully set; the sky had turned black, littered with starry lights. Despite lacking actual occupants, the city was illuminated within the darkness. For reasons he could not quite explain, a wave of nostalgia washed over him as he stood in this moment. It was not, he felt, for the city – it meant nothing to him, being part of a life he no longer remembered nor understood. But instead, it was for something beyond Fuyuki, unreachable.

“It can't be, and yet…” his voice trailed off.

Somewhere in the distance, a girl watched on with hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, thanks very much for reading! All comments and feedback are appreciated!


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